The First Mercy
by tinseltown
Summary: Before HYDRA tells the Winter Soldier to go after Captain America, they tell him to after the teenage girl Captain America is in charge of protecting. The Winter Soldier is built to mindlessly obey...but the next 24 hours with this teenage girl make him begin to question just who he truly is.


_Note: So I just recently watched Captain America 2 and I absolutely loved it. I had so many feels over it that I wanted to write a little something, so this was born! It's a one-shot and it's totally random, it features an OC. I just had to get it out of my system! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Marvel universe. The only character I own is my OC, Blair Walden._

"_Think_," insisted Steve Rogers, staring at me hard with his blue eyes. "Is there _any _reason why these enemies, whoever they are, might want you?"

"I'm the daughter of one of the richest men in the world," I said in a this-is-sort-of-obvious-isn't-it? tone. "Probably to ransom me, I'm guessing."

"That's _it_?" demanded Steve, looking frustrated. "That can't be why they've sent so many different people to get you."

I felt a prick of guilt inside at not telling Steve the truth about my dangerous secret—he _was_ the good guy, after all, the moral and honorable Captain America who had been tasked with keeping me safe for the next forty-eight hours until SHIELD could get me away to a safe house—but this was one secret I couldn't tell _anybody_. If anyone found out, my life would be over. And besides, I didn't even know if the people who were after me knew about it. So I just shook my head and shrugged and said, "I have no idea. Money is all I can think of."

Steve ran his hands through his blond hair and sighed and said, "Alright, we need to get on the move. I'm going to leave for five minutes to go check the perimeter. I'll only be gone _five _minutes, you hear me? Don't touch anything, don't go anywhere, don't talk to anyone. In fact, don't move at all. Just wait here for me. No one knows you're here, not even SHIELD, so you shouldn't be compromised in any way."

"Okay," I said.

"Five minutes," he repeated, and then he shrugged on a brown leather jacket and left, locking the door from the outside as well as telling me to lock it on the inside, which I did. And then I stood and waited.

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The Winter Soldier crouched on the rooftop of the building across the street, still as a statue, staring into the apartment where the girl stood. They had kept the blinds open—stupid of them. His eyesight was so advanced now that he didn't even need binoculars to see them; he could see them clear as crystal with his own eyes. The perks of being a superhuman. The man, the tall, blond, muscular one—the one they called Captain America—was talking to the girl. Captain America was a target of the Winter Soldier's…but not right now. Captain America came second. His first target was the girl. The man, Captain America, seemed frustrated with the girl. He was running his hands through his hair and crossing his arms and for a brief moment, the Winter Soldier wondered what HYDRA wanted with a mere teenage girl but then he banished the question from his mind. He wasn't here to question orders. He was here to obey them.

The Winter Soldier could have burst in there right now and dragged the girl out—but then Captain America would have put up a fight. The Winter Soldier didn't fear a fight…he didn't fear _anything_…but HYDRA had told him to make this operation as covert as possible. They didn't want to attract any attention this time. So the Winter Soldier waited patiently and sure enough, a few seconds later, the man left the room, shutting the door behind him.

The Winter Soldier watched for a few more seconds and then he saw something alarming happen, something that made him still even further and squint his eyes. The girl had stood there for a moment, and then she had turned towards the kitchenette and raised her right hand. In front of her, on the counter, a white mug rose jerkily into the air, _hovering_. The girl's hand was trembling and she seemed to be struggling with herself. Every time her hand moved in one slight direction or the other, the mug jerked and shot to that side extremely quickly, clearly out of her control. And then the mug fell to the floor and smashed. He saw her groan silently and kneel to pick up the shards and he stood. He had seen enough to know that the girl was an anomaly and possibly dangerous. It was time to move.

He bent his knees, getting ready to spring, and then he launched himself into the air, leaping over a distance that no normal human would ever have been able to jump. He tucked himself into a ball, rolling, and crashed through the window of the apartment. The girl leaped to her feet and let out a startled cry. He stood up and they stared at each other, both frozen, for one nanosecond—and then the girl leaped for the door. He was too quick for her, however, and he lunged at her and grabbed her around the waist. He wrapped one arm around her waist, her back to his side (the way a football player would tuck a football into his side while running) and when she opened her mouth to scream, he clapped his metal hand over her mouth and nose to silence her. She struggled furiously, trying wildly to kick him and writhing like a fish out of water, but her strength was no match for his. Her fight felt like a kitten trying to fight a wild dog that was mauling it. He took no notice of it and immediately dragged her to the window, bending, and then launching back out the window and landing on the rooftop across the street again.

He knew Captain America would be after him in a matter of minutes. He'd been told that the Captain was a superhuman like him, so he'd be faster and stronger than a normal human. The Winter Soldier hoisted the struggling girl a little higher so her feet wouldn't scrape the ground (he had a feeling HYDRA wouldn't be pleased at him delivering the girl feetless, with bloody stumps in place) and took off running like a bullet.

He didn't go far. HYDRA had known that Captain America would be on their tail almost right away, so they had come up with a plan to trick him. The Winter Soldier leaped down into a small and dirty alleyway and made his way over to a metal door. He wrenched it open and got inside, shutting the door quietly so he didn't attract any attention. Captain America would _never _suspect that his kidnapped charge was being held only a few blocks away from where she'd been taken; HYDRA was laying out a false-yet-realistic-looking trail for the Captain and his redheaded agent friend to follow. Once they were sufficiently far away, the Winter Soldier would head in the opposite direction. But first, he had to wait a few hours here.

He let go of the girl and she dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He knelt by her, confused for a moment—she wasn't breathing; had she _died_?—before he realized he'd covered her mouth and nose so tightly that she'd passed out. A pulse still flickered in her neck. She wasn't dead, just unconscious. Good, he decided. She'd be less of a nuisance to him this way.

The room was dark and dirty and empty save for a threadbare mattress which was more bare threads than mattress and a hard chair. He half-kicked, half-nudged the girl onto the mattress and dragged the chair near the door and took a seat on it, resting his chin on his metal fist. He stared at the girl's still, slender form and wondered what she was. How did someone so human-looking have such inhuman powers? Was she some sort of monster? Some sort of superhuman? Aside from her powers, she was as weak as a regular human, and she hadn't seemed like she had any sort of control over her powers either… He also wondered if HYDRA knew about her powers. It seemed likely—and yet they hadn't said anything about them to him. It wasn't like HYDRA to not accurately brief him on the details of a mission, especially details that could cause a huge issue for him.

A few hours passed while she lay unconscious and he sat there, his mind half-empty and half-musing, and then she finally began to move a little, stirring. Her eyes fluttered a little and he tensed himself, getting ready to pounce and knock her unconscious again if she tried to cause any trouble.

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Pain. That was the first thing I felt. Pain around my waist, as if I'd gotten rope-burned all around my waist and soreness all over. I opened my eyes slowly, trying to get a bearing for where I was. I was laying on something hard and cold and scratchy, a little bit lumpy as well, and my skin felt ice-cold and sore. Dark shapes danced in front of my eyes and I rubbed them away as I slowly sat up and tried to get a sense for where I was.

I was in a dark room, dirty and dark and empty…except for the man who sat hunched on a chair near the door, staring at me. I froze and everything came rushing back to me: him breaking into Steve's apartment, grabbing me, kidnapping me, _suffocating_ me…

And here we were. He was tall—even sitting down—and well-built, strong, like Steve. He wore an all-black outfit, like some of special military suit, and his eyes…were staring at me in a haunted, cold and emotionless sort of way. He had long, straight, messy brown hair which hung to his chin and his eyes were smudged with dark rings around them, as if he had been punched in both eyes by someone with soot-covered fists. His face was stubbly, as if he hadn't shaved in a few weeks. And one of his arms…_was completely silver_. It was very menacing looking, like it could rip out someone's heart with no effort at all.

My mouth was dry and I didn't know what to do next. For a moment I thought I might pass out again…but no, I knew I had to do something. This man would kill me if I didn't. I slowly got to my feet, never taking my eyes off of him, and backed away, looking for something that I could use to defend myself. I found nothing useful. The room was quite literally bare, save for the pathetic excuse of a mattress he'd put me on and the chair he was sitting on. He stood up too and took a step towards me and it was so menacing that I had to stifle a sound of fear by clapping a hand against my mouth.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice raspy, trying to sound coherent and fearless.

He didn't answer, only took another slow step towards me and my stomach dropped a little more.

"Where am I?" I demanded, my voice high-pitched and breathless with fear. My heart was hammering so loudly that I was surprised he couldn't hear…or _could _he? I watched in horror as he stopped, cocked his head, staring at me, as if he were _listening_…but no, he was a human, humans couldn't hear heartbeats with their bare ears… "Why did you take me? _Who are you_?" My voice was getting increasingly high-pitched and I fought to keep calm. The more scared I seemed, the weaker he'd deem me. And weak people got killed more quickly.

He took another step and panic threatened to overwhelm me. I looked around frantically for an escape and hysterically said, "Stay away from me—don't come any closer—_no, stop_—"

He ignored my pleas and took yet _another _step, and this time panic completely took over me and I lost it. I had swore to myself that I'd never show another human being my powers, but this situation was unlike any other I'd ever imagined I'd experience. I shot my hands up and then wildly thrust outward, as if shoving an invisible person. A blast of invisible power shot out from me and slammed into him, knocking him back a few steps. And yet my power was still so weak that all it did was knock him back a foot, it didn't even knock him _over_.

That must have obviously pissed him off, because he was suddenly rushed at me and then he was pinning me against the wall, holding me by my throat. I was choking as he was lifting me in the air. I tried to kick him, but he stepped out of the way and my legs couldn't reach him. I tried to pound on his arms, claw at his hands holding me—but one hand was metal and the other was clad in a tough, heavy black material that didn't feel the force of my nails at all. I struggled for air and a roaring noise filled my ears as tears of desperation burned in my eyes. My chest burned as if I were being lit on fire. _You're going to die! _my mind screamed at me. _DO SOMETHING! _

But there was nothing I could do.

He let me dangle there for a second and then he said, "Don't threaten me again, _ever_," and let me drop. I fell to the ground, on my hands and knees, retching and gasping, sucking in painful breaths of air. My windpipe burned as I fought to regain my breath and the tears which had filled my eyes suddenly spilled over (despite my best efforts to hold them back) and then I was on the ground, crying so hard I couldn't breathe again.

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After she'd attempted to fight him by using her powers and had failed miserably, he'd taught her a lesson by choking her for a few seconds. He didn't have to take it that far, but he wanted to terrify her into submission so she wouldn't try it again. And it seemed to have worked. She was huddled into the corner furthest from him, pressing herself so hard into the wall that it seemed she was trying to distance herself from him as much as she possibly could. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, her head was down, but he could see her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. She didn't make any noise at all—silent as a ghost—but he could sense her crying. It was like the invisible elephant in the room.

It made him uncomfortable. In all his years of doing missions for HYDRA, it had never gone like this. Normally he got a target and he killed them quickly. Sometimes he encountered a bit of a fight or resistance from someone else (usually guards; the people he killed were almost always important people), but they were quickly dealt with and then he'd kill his target, and report back to HYDRA. His targets had always been adults and almost always men, though there had been one or two women as well.

But he'd never had a teenage girl as a target before. The men and women he'd targeted before had been powerful people with the means to defend themselves. She didn't. And he'd never held them hostage; he got the job done quickly. So this made him uncomfortable. He didn't care about things like human morality—he followed HYDRA' s orders, end of story—but he did feel somewhat strange abusing someone so defenseless and so much smaller than him. As much of a mindless soldier that he was, he did feel a pinprick of distaste at harming a child (though he'd do it if HYDRA ordered it). And he'd never had to deal with a crying woman before. He was sure he'd indirectly caused tears before, the weeping relatives of the people who he was ordered to kill—but he'd never been trapped in a room with a crying girl, someone who was crying because of him. He wasn't going to comfort her or disobey his orders, but it still made him feel uneasy. She wasn't making any noise but he still wished she would stop crying. He didn't like it.

Finally, after a little while longer of this, he lost his patience and growled, "Shut up!"

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"Shut up!"

The sound broke through the silence and shocked me. I'd been sitting pressed into the corner, my body cold and stiff and sore, crying silently. Hot tears had flowed down my face and I'd bitten my knee to stifle my silent scream, to not give him any more reason to try and kill me. I slowly looked up in shock, hesitantly wiping at my wet, tear-soaked face and asked, "Wh-what?" I couldn't believe he'd spoken to me.

"Stop that," he snarled, gesturing aimlessly towards my face. "Stop crying!"

"I—" I stopped, in shock. I didn't know what to say. Tears burned in my eyes and I tried to blink them away but they spilled over onto my cheeks. He noticed and stood up, demanding, "What did I say?"

"I—I can't _help _it!" I cried, wiping them away frantically—but by now even more tears were pouring out my eyes. "Y-You're scaring m-me… I want to go h-home… What do you want? Do you want money? My dad has money—a lot of it—"

"I said _shut up_!" he said angrily and I snapped my mouth shut, fearing what he'd do if I pushed him any further. I wrapped my arms around my legs even more tightly and rocked back and forth slightly, thinking about Captain America. The consummate hero, the good guy, the Avenger. He'd find me, wouldn't he? He'd never stop trying, right? I was trying to convince myself that there was hope. Captain America wouldn't let me down. _And _he was a superhuman, like this guy was (it seemed), so he had a way better chance of finding me than the regular police, which most kidnapped kids had to rely on.

I had no idea what this guy was waiting for. He was just sitting there, staring at me in a way that seemed to look at me _and _right through me all at once. Like he was hyperaware of my presence but he didn't notice I was alive at the same time. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and tentatively asked, "Could you stop _staring _at me?"

He blinked once, as if raising himself from a daze, and then said, "What?"

"Stop staring at me," I said, feeling a little more confident now that he wasn't threatening to kill me. Or choking me. "It's creepy."

He was silent for a moment and then he said, "You've been kidnapped and you're locked in a room with your kidnapper, and the _staring _is what you find creepy?"

"Yes," I snapped, even more confident now that he was engaging in normal conversation. Maybe I could get through to him. I'd heard of people reasoning with their kidnappers before, trying to find their humanity and appeal to it. Maybe I could try on this guy, too. I paused for a moment and then asked, making my voice gentler and less snappy, "What's your name?"

"I'm known as the Winter Soldier," he said, his voice slightly dead.

"That's not a real name," I said.

"That's none of your business. Shut your mouth before I break it." And we were back to square one. I shut my mouth before he made good on his promise. After he'd almost strangled me, I didn't trust his sanity at all.

After a while, though, I felt brave enough to speak again. "Captain America will find me, you know." He didn't respond, merely stared at me. "He's more than just a human," I said. "He's stronger, faster. He'll find me. And he'll kill you. He's an Avenger. You know who they are?"

"I'm going to kill your Avenger next," was his reply.

"I'd like to see you try," I scoffed.

"I thought I told you to watch it," he said slowly.

"No, you did, but I've realized something," I said—which I had. "You keep threatening me…but you're not actually going to kill me. You kidnapped me for a _reason_. I'm not sure what it is…but I'm not worth much when I'm dead."

He stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over, trying to scare me. It worked inside; my heart and stomach clenched up. But I forced myself to stay still and stared at him from where I sat, my arms crossed over my chest to stop them from shaking. We stared at each other coldly for a moment and then he slowly sat back down, yanking the chair up.

"So, Winter Soldier," I said. "Where did you get that silver arm?" And I watched in shock as his face paled slightly and he cringed for a second, as if someone were coming at him.

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"So, Winter Soldier," the girl asked, her tone flippant and yet wavering slightly. "Where did you get that silver arm?"

And then he was lost for a moment. Strange memories flashed in his head, just for a nanosecond—the feeling of laying down on a hard surface—a voice murmuring in his ear—a blurry face smiling in a not pleasant way at him—someone saying the word "special" over and over—and then _pain_, immense pain in his arm—

And then it was over. His heart was pounding slightly and he felt a bit disoriented for a moment. The whole thing had taken only a few seconds and had felt so shaky and rapid, but it had also felt so _real_. What the hell had that been? Some sort of hallucination?

He noticed the girl looking at him oddly. He wanted to distract her so instead of answering _her _question, he asked her one: "What's your name?"

In all honesty, he didn't care about what her name was. He didn't care about her at all. He didn't make a habit out of getting to know his targets. But they were stuck here and she was getting bolder, so he needed to take control of the situation. The girl hesitated for a moment, clearly wondering if giving out her name was the best idea—he could see her deliberating—but she must have realized that he already had _her_, why did it matter if he knew her name? "Blair Walden," she said.

"How did you get your powers?" he asked. Now this he _was_ curious about. He still wasn't sure if HYDRA knew about them—and he wanted to know what sort of creature Blair was.

Her face went blank and her body tensed up. He recognized the position; it was one he had perfected, one that screamed, _I am not going to reveal anything to anyone. _"You may as well tell me," he said slowly, speaking in that emotionless, flat way that he did. He didn't feel emotions very strongly, so his tone didn't waver much. Only once or twice had he gotten very angry and lost control—but then he was punished. And he didn't like that at all. He never _remembered _the punishments, but he felt the torturous pain afterwards all the same. HYDRA didn't allow for any loss of control.

"Why should I?" asked Blair, her voice flat as well.

"Because this is your one chance to," he said. "We're strangers. We'll never meet again."

"So you're admitting it," she said. "You're _not _going to kill me?"

He didn't answer, merely waited silently for her to respond to his original question. She fell silent for a few moments too and finally she shrugged. "I don't know. There's no story. I was born this way. No one knows. I didn't even know I could do it until I was ten."

"Your parents never realized." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

She gave a strange, twisted smile and a faraway look came into her eyes. "My parents…haven't spent much time with me." By the distant look on her face, the Winter Soldier could have hazarded that her parents didn't spend _any _time with her. He had no response; he had no parents. Or if he had, he didn't remember them now. He was just HYDRA's tool. That was all. He didn't know anything else except the blood and the orders.

They were silent then, having nothing else to say. Except the Winter Soldier felt a bit strange inside, as he looked at Blair's pale, withdrawn face. She stared into the nothingness and he stared at her. He couldn't tell what it was he was feeling. It was nothing he'd ever felt before. A feeling that most normal people would call _pity_.

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We sat in silence for a few hours. My legs had grown completely cold and numb and my stomach was aching with hunger by now but the one time I asked for a blanket or some food, the Winter Soldier had given me such a cold look that I'd immediately stopped talking. And then there was silence. And more silence. And some _more _silence. I thought we'd had a slight rapport going—and then he'd ruined it all by asking about my powers and my parents and I had nothing more to say.

I didn't know how I'd gotten my powers. All I knew was that there were always accidents happening near me—plates falling off counters, desks falling over in school, that girl who had teased her all year flying too far and too hard off the monkey bars and having the breath knocked out of her… I'd finally figured it out when I was ten and had had forcefully pointed at my mom during a silly little fight—and the door behind her slammed shut. My mother had jumped, given me a horror-filled look of fear and hurried from the room. And that had been the end of my relationship with my parents. They threw money at me to make me go away, bought me whatever I wanted, made sure I went to the best schools…all in exchange for buying my silence and buying my absence. They didn't want to be near me, their freak of a daughter. Fine by me. I'd long ago learned to hide the hurt and heartbreak and these days I stalked my house like a ghost, going _days _without seeing hair or hide of my parents. I didn't know whether they still loved me deep down. They hadn't thrown me on the street or sold me to a science lab—but they'd rarely look at me normally ever again. I'd long ago figured it was a lost cause.

And then _he _had to go and ask. I watched him now, closely. He sat stock-still, stiller than any human could ever sit, and stared at me. "You're staring at me again," I complained. "Stop. I'm not going to punch my way out through a wall like the Hulk, so you can relax."

"I have orders," he said. "You're my target. I have to watch."

"For what?" I snapped irritably. "For me to start flying or something? What are you _waiting _for?"

"I don't question the orders," he said. "I only follow."

"_Whose _orders?" I demanded. If I could figure out who was behind this, it could help save me.

He fell silent, his eyes blanking over. Obviously I wasn't going to get this one out of him. "How old are you?" I asked.

"Twenty-three."

"You're _twenty-three_?" I demanded. "But that's so young! How does a 23-year-old became a master assassin like you? How many years have you been working?"

"I've been in effect for over sixty years." He sounded a bit bored.

I froze, staring at him. "Wait—hold on—you said you're twenty-three…but you've been working for _over sixty years_? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" An incredulous laugh escaped my mouth as I remembered all the lame sci-fi movies I'd watched on TV throughout my lifetime. "What, like you were frozen in ice and saved or something?" My laughter died in my throat as he looked at me seriously, basically confirming what I'd just said.

"WAIT!" I shouted, clambering to my feet and staring at him in total shock. "You mean to tell me you've been _alive _since the—the—" I frantically counted backwards in my head. "Since, like, the 1950's or something?"

"The 1940's," he replied. "And lower your voice. I won't ask again." His voice was dangerous and had a steely-edge to it so I immediately lowered my voice and leaned against the wall, staring at him in awe. I don't know why I was so shocked; after all, _Captain America _had been frozen in ice as well. Just how many people had been saved in ice to thaw decades later? Was this a _thing _that was happening all over?

"Who were you before you were the Winter Soldier?" I asked.

"Nobody," he said. "I was nothing. I am only the Soldier."

It was funny, I realized. When I discussed regular things with him, he responded a bit more normally. But when I discussed _his _personal past—his name, who he was—he seemed to become robotic, any light leaving his eyes, face falling flat. As if _he_ didn't even know the answers to my questions.

"So you never answered my question," I said finally. "How did you get the…you know…metalarm?"

"I don't know," he said. "I've always had it."

"Um, that's kind of not physiologically possible," I said. "You obviously weren't born with a _metal arm_."

"I've always had it," he repeated. "There is nothing before."

"Okay," I said, realizing I was going nowhere. "Can it move properly—like a normal hand?"

He held it up in response and flexed his fingers and then flexed his elbow slightly. I watched in horrified fascination as the silver scales moved as fluidly as regular human skin, glinting dully by the single dinghy light bulb in the middle of the room.

"Can it feel?" I asked. "Can it sense? Like…like with nerve endings in skin?"

"Yes," he said.

"Can I feel it?" I whispered. I couldn't stop myself—I was so morbidly curious. I'd seen Tony Stark's Iron Man suit on TV but I'd _never _heard of metal that worked like skin, actual skin, did.

He looked at me, shock flashing in his face for a moment. It was possible no one had ever touched him for a reason that _wasn't _mean to try and kill him before. And then he wordlessly held his arm out.

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The girl—Blair—wanted to _touch _his metal arm. The Winter Soldier wondered how he'd gotten to this point. This was madness. All of this…talking to her, asking her questions, allowing her to ask _him _questions…and now _this_. Letting her touch his arm. It was completely breaking protocol and he should have slapped her across the face and forced her to sit silently in the corner until he got the call from HYDRA (whenever they decided to check in; he wasn't privy to the reasoning behind their decisions). And yet he still silently held his arm out, not knowing why.

Blair came towards him slowly, like a small scared animal, gauging his reaction with her eyes every step of the way. Perhaps she thought he'd try to strangle her again. A part of him wanted to, for somehow making him break protocol like this. But he sat still so as to not alarm her and she came close to him. He could hear the faint pounding of her heart pick up and he could feel the heat radiating off of her body. His senses were stronger than any human's. He'd never been this close to a normal human for this long before. He was never close to any of his targets for long; it was get in, kill, get out. As for the scientists and professionals at HYDRA…they kept a cool, clinical distance. No one approached him. Everyone was too nervous to do so. It had never bothered him before but this new feeling was quite frankly baffling.

She reached out and very gently, with a feather-light touch, touched his silver wrist. He almost jerked back in shock. No one had ever touched him like this, with no syringe or weapon in hand and no mechanical purpose in mind. It felt very odd and he couldn't decide if it made him uncomfortable or not.

And then, just as suddenly, she was backing off. Perhaps she didn't want to push her luck—or his limits.

Finally, an hour later, he got the call from HYDRA. The slim phone in his pocket vibrated and he swiped the screen, holding it to his ear and saying, "Target acquired."

"Terminate target," said an irritated voice on the other end. He had no idea who it was. It was someone new every time.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Terminate target," the voice repeated. "We intended to hold her ransom. We've been negotiating with her father for hours. He refuses to pay any large sum of money to get his daughter back. This mission is a failure. Terminate target, Soldier."

The Winter Soldier hesitated, not sure why. He was supposed to say, "Yes, sir," to let them know that he got their message and would follow their orders…but the words wouldn't come. The silence on the other end of the phone grew heavy and he could feel Blair's gaze on him like a burning iron.

"Is there a _problem_, Soldier?" the voice asked in a delicate, dangerous tone. "Or…perhaps there's something we need to know about the target?"

They didn't know about her powers. All the voice had said was about a ransom. It was all about the money; the girl had said earlier that her father was rich. But they didn't know about the powers. The Winter Soldier knew if he opened his mouth and told them about her powers, he would be rewarded. HYDRA would never let such a gem escape their grasps. They'd drag her into their headquarters and they'd put her in the chair. They'd fill her with syringes and she would become a super-soldier too. A super-solder who followed the orders exactly, just like him. He ought to tell.

"No," he found himself saying.

"Good. Then the order stands: terminate target. And then check in when you've done it."

"Yes, sir," he found himself saying, and then the line went dead. He slowly slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to face Blair, who was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and slight fear.

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"Was that…the people you work for?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"Yes," the Winter Soldier replied quietly.

"And…and what did they say?" I asked, licking my dry lips. My whole mouth and throat felt dry—whether from fear or dehydration, I couldn't say. I didn't know how long we'd been in here, but it had to be over twenty-four hours. Captain America hadn't even found me yet. I didn't think he ever would, at this point.

"They tried to ransom you to your father," he said slowly.

"Ransom—ransom, yeah, that's good, right?" I babbled, trying to sort out my tangled thoughts. "You guys get the money, I get to go free…right? Ri— Wait," I said slowly. "Why did…why did you say they _tried _to ransom me? What does 'tried' mean?"

"They failed," he said mechanically. "Your father refused to pay the money."

"My fa—my fath—" My throat closed in shock and I couldn't breathe. My heart shrank about ten sized and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks: my parents had refused to pay for me. I wasn't worth the money. They were probably glad to be rid of me. They didn't love me after all. "My parents refused to pay for me," I said, a bubble of hysterical laughter swelling up inside me. I tried to quell it, but it burst out of me, sounding crazed and maniacal. "My parents refused to _pay _for me!" I bent over, laughing hysterically, my stomach turning nauseously. "Why d-did I expect anything else? My parents _refused to pay for me_!" I wiped the tears from my eyes and let out a shuddering hiccup, smiling and shaking my head. "And now I guess you have to kill me, right? Otherwise you'll be—be compromised or whatever."

I leaned back against the wall, my legs suddenly feeling dead. "Go ahead," I said, still smiling, my heart drowning inside my chest. "Do what you need to do."

The Winter Soldier stood there, staring at me with a strange expression on his face. I waited for him to pull out his machine gun and kill me. Or would he do it using his fists? Strangle me for real this time? I waited and he stared at me, and then he suddenly said, "No."

xxxxxxxxxx

"No." The word escaped from his mouth before he could take it back. Blair's eyes widened and she looked shocked.

"I…I don't understand," she said. "What do you…?"

"No," he repeated. "I'm not going to kill you." He had _no _idea why he was doing this. This was all wrong. He followed orders, always. And he always had a long list of orders. After this, he had to go hunt down that Captain America and kill him. But for now—his order was to kill Blair. And he was saying no.

"But why?" she asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining…but…I don't understand…"

Neither did he. He cared nothing for the girl. And yet, he was doing this. He knew if he dragged her to HYDRA with him, they'd poke and prod her and put her in the chair and do things to her. She'd scream, like he screamed, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear her scream like that. The other option was to kill her here—but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Both of his arms felt like lead, heavy and hanging there. They couldn't bring themselves up to deliver her the blow of death. He'd have to tell HYDRA she'd escaped, since they'd want her body. He'd be punished severely. He'd be put into the chair. He'd be punished and he'd scream. They might even put him back into the ice and that was the one thing he hated more than anything on this earth, being put back into the godforsaken _ice_, smothering and covering him, his body locked into place, eyes shut, mind drifting aimlessly until the next time they woke him… But he wasn't going to kill her. She'd touched his wrist gently and the scientists had never done that, no one had done that, and he couldn't bring himself to kill her. He didn't know why.

"I don't know," he said. "But I won't say it twice. If you ask me again, I _will _kill you." He strode to the door, flung it open, and waited. Outside, it was dark and quiet; night had fallen. "Go," he repeated.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Where do I go?" I asked, still reeling from the shock that this strange, silent, hollow man was letting me go. Perhaps there _was _something buried deep inside him, something from the past that he seemed to have no memory of. "My parents…my parents gave me up, I can't go back, I have…I have nowhere to go…"

"Go," he said. "And if I ever run into you again—I'll kill you." I believed him; his tone promised that with an awful finality.

"But what do I do?" I whispered.

He stared at me for a moment, his face hidden in the shadows, and then he quietly said, "Disappear." And then he did just that, turning and vanishing silently into the shadows like a ghost, leaving me standing there.


End file.
